Brilliance
by oopsabird
Summary: While working a case, John has a thought. And Sherlock thinks it's just brilliant! And if you think that's unexpected, wait until you see his reaction! Fluff and Humor, a bit of Crackfic, and a pinch of Sally Donovan. Kplus , the plus being for the fact that they're at a murder scene.


**A/N: Finally! I've contributed to this wonderful fandom! I can die happily. No, wait, Series Three doesn't exist yet. Okay, forget dying.**

**This is short, kinda cracky, a little bit slashy, tumblr inspired, and written on my iPod at 5am. Consider yourself warned.**

_**Disclaimer: If I owned anything here but the plot, it would already be on TV. All credit goes to Mofftiss, BBC, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

* * *

Brilliance

"…shape and size of the wound show that the victim was stabbed, once, some sort of knife, but that's not all. The weapon was removed slowly, deliberately. And see if you look at this here, you can tell that the weapon was left in the wound for a time after he was stabbed, and retrieved afterward." John straightens up and away from the body, pulling off his surgical gloves as he does so. "And that's all she wrote."

Sherlock furrows his brow, delving deep into thought. "Why would they do that? Why would they leave the weapon and then come back for it? It doesn't make sense!" He stamps his foot on the asphalt in frustration.

"Maybe they forgot they left it, and then returned in a panic to get it?"

"No no no remember you said before the knife was drawn out slowly not in a panicked way at all. It was entirely deliberate. So they stab him, leave, leave to go where? Where?" Sherlock is pacing now, one hand behind his back, the other gesturing wildly as he speaks.

"Maybe off to establish an alibi? As close to the time of death as possible, so that if questioned, they would be safe?" John shrugs and looks at the ground, scuffing at the asphalt with his shoe. "Just an idea."

Sherlock stops in his pacing, a look of utter surprise on his face.

"Oi!" Sally Donovan ducks under the yellow tape, making her way over to the pair with quick, purposeful strides, shoes clicking. "You two 'bout done? Weather's lookin bad, it's gonna rain. We need to get evidence in here before it all gets wrecked." She takes a sip of her coffee. "Not to mention get you two out." she adds under her breath.

Sherlock, as is usually the case with Sally, isn't listening. Instead, he turns and stares at John.

"Say that again."

Sally rolls her eyes and sighs loudly._ No amount of pay is worth him_, she thinks. "I said, are you almost done, it's gonna rain and we need to get-"

Now it's the consulting detective's turn to roll and sigh. "Not you! John!"

The army doctor in question raises his eyebrows and points to his chest as if saying 'Me?', blinks, and stammers out "Uh… maybe they left to establish and alibi as close to the time of death as possible, then came back for the knife?" A shake of the head, like clearing cobwebs. "I'm sorry, why did I need to repeat that?"

"It's brilliant."

"What?" Never in all her time working with the Freak has Sally ever heard him call someone else's idea "brilliant".

The originator of said idea is confused as well. "What?"

"Oh, it's the most brilliant thing I've heard all day!" Sherlock shakes his arms in that way he has when it's all coming together. "It's fantastic!"

And with that, Sherlock Holmes whirls around, grabs John Watson's face, and kisses him square on the mouth.

It's all lips and teeth and black curly hair and Sherlock's nose stabbing into his cheek but John is absolutely sure it's the most wonderful feeling he's ever had. Electricity and fire and ice and something exploding in his chest (fingers crossed it's not his heart).

It's over in a second and John is left standing there with an expression like he's been slapped in the face, and Sherlock is off like a whirling dervish, deducing and gesturing about; and if he looks a little flushed and has a little more exuberant energy than usual, then it's obviously not at all related to what just happened.

Sally realizes that her mouth is hanging open and at some point, she dropped her coffee on her trousers.

When she tells him later, Anderson doesn't quite believe it ever happened.

To be perfectly honest, neither does John.

* * *

**A/N: Ta-dah! I'll probably be editing this constantly, tweaking it and making adjustments. For instance, I've already changed it so that it's all in one tense. Yay editing!**

**Did you know this was largely inspired by the Doctor kissing Rory on last week's DW episode? The tumblr post that sparked my creative juices was talking about it, and someone said "Can you imagine if that happened on Sherlock?", and I just couldn't resist!**

**Also I am neither a medical professional nor a forensic investigator, so everything John said at the beginning was b-s'd out of my head to fit the story.**

**Review, tell me what you like or don't like, if it flows correctly, any adjustments necessary. Reviews are like chicken soup for the writer's soul!**

**Allons-y!**


End file.
